


Astray

by Riona



Category: Life Is Strange 2
Genre: Gen, Second Person, Self-Loathing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 17:09:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18815308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riona/pseuds/Riona
Summary: Daniel, after Wastelands, trying to find a direction.





	Astray

**Author's Note:**

> I've already written fanfiction about Sean's emotional agony, and now I suppose it's Daniel's turn!
> 
> I don't know exactly what Sean's condition is at the end of the episode, but I assume Daniel must at least believe he's dead, because otherwise he presumably wouldn't have left.

Your shoulder hurts.

The boss is on the floor. Not moving. Is he...?

He’s not moving. Which means he can’t shoot anyone else, and everything’s fine, right?

You’re shaking, and your shoulder _really_ hurts, and there’s – that’s blood on your hand, right? From your shoulder. And the boss is on the floor, and you’re gonna need to—

Cassidy’s on the floor as well. And Finn. Are they okay? Did you—

Sean?

“Sean!”

You scramble to your knees next to him. He’s lying there as well, he’s not moving, and there’s blood, there’s blood on his face and—

There’s a shard of glass, a _blade_ of glass, straight through his _eye_ , and no no NO—

You’re shaking and bleeding and crying and grabbing at him and he’s not moving, he just keeps not moving.

No. No, this wasn’t supposed to happen, you didn’t _mean_ to—

You’re trying to yell his name but it’s just coming out in this kind of tiny wet half-voice, and you can barely see him, you’re crying so hard, but you can still feel him under your hands and that keeps telling you this is still real.

You told him you’re not a kid any more, and you meant it when you said it, but you’ve never felt more like a kid than you do now.

-

Your stuff is all back at the camp. Your dad’s photo, that’s still up on the wall of your tent. You can’t stop thinking about it.

But you can’t go back there. It’s not like you can drive. And you wouldn’t know the way if you tried to walk, you’d probably just get lost and starve. And Big Joe would kill you, actually literally kill you. And Hannah and Jacob and Penny and that nice Swedish couple would want to know what happened to Finn and Cassidy, to Sean, and you’d have to tell them you—

You can’t go back there.

Where do you go?

You stumble out of the room, holding on to the doorframe; you can barely stay on your feet. Once you’re outside, it – it’s still real, it’s still horrible, but at least you’re not in there any more, with all the people you...

That’s something, right?

And then you realise: you’re going to need money. You’re going to need the money from the safe.

You’re going to have to go back _in_ there.

You go back in. You have to. And you’re breathing way too fast. And you’re trying not to look at Sean, but you _can’t_ stop looking at Sean, and every second that this keeps being real you feel more like you’re about to throw up.

You wish a puma would come and drag him away. You hated it when it happened to Mushroom. But at least it would mean you wouldn’t have to _see_ him.

Finn brought a few bags, to carry the money and anything else you found, you guess. (Why did you say you’d do this? Sean _told_ you not to and you didn’t listen, you never listen to him, it’s your fault.) There’s a kind of shoulder satchel that’s an okay size for you. It feels wrong, taking Finn’s stuff, but everything’s wrong right now, so...

You take the satchel, and you stuff it full of bills from the safe. You go through the house, and you find some water, and some food you hope doesn’t have any drugs in it.

You feel you should... look at Sean one more time, or say goodbye, or something. But you can’t go back in there.

You wrap your arms around yourself for a moment and pretend it’s him.

And then you run.

-

You walk along the dirt road, because at some point it has to turn into a road people who aren’t Big Joe actually drive along, right? Follow the roads, you find people.

Sean was the one who taught you that.

You’ve gotten pretty good at walking for a long time, at ignoring how hungry you are. Turns out it’s harder to ignore when you’ve been shot. Your shoulder feels like it’s getting worse, it’s bleeding through the dish towel you tied around it, and you don’t know if there’s still a bullet in there, and you don’t know if you’re meant to get it out or what.

Sean would know. Or Finn, probably. But you screwed up, and now it’s just you.

It’s kind of...

It’s kind of getting harder to think. Maybe that’s okay? Nothing you can think about right now is good, anyway.

There aren’t so many trees now. And you can...

You can hear cars, right?

Everything’s getting kind of... blurry and dark, and...

-

You wake up, and you know something’s wrong but you don’t know what it is, and then you remember you killed your brother and start screaming.

Your power is surging inside you, it wants to come out, and you can’t let that happen again, and you’re screaming harder as you try to fight it down.

And suddenly there are people’s hands on you and people talking urgently and you open your eyes and—

You’re in a hospital? This is a hospital, right?

But everything’s going blurry again, and you can’t...

-

You wake up again, and your brother is still dead.

You open your eyes.

You’re definitely in a hospital. Your shoulder still hurts. But it feels better. And the bed – it’s _real_ , it’s a real bed, and you’ve really missed having a place to sleep.

You try to picture Sean sitting on the side of the bed, waiting for you to wake up. _Hey,_ he says. He’s alive and his eye is fine, and maybe he looks kind of like he’s been crying, because he’s been worried. Because he still cares about you, even though you’re the worst little brother anyone’s ever had.

“Hey,” you say. You think you might start crying as well.

-

A doctor comes and asks you what your name is and where you come from and who your parents are.

 _Don’t tell her,_ Sean says.

You pretend you can’t remember anything. You’re not sure if she believes you.

She says you’ve been shot. A couple found you by the road and brought you in. She says you’ll be okay, but they need to know who did it so they can ‘get the police involved’. She asks what happened.

You don’t want the police involved. You say you don’t remember.

She shows you the satchel and asks if it’s yours. You say yes.

She says there’s a lot of money in it, more than a kid should have. She asks how you got it.

You say you don’t remember anything.

She asks how you know the satchel is yours, then.

_Don’t freak out,_ Sean says.

But he’s not real and he can’t help and you’re starting to freak out. You feel like your power is rising up your throat, like you’re going to throw it up all over the room. You can’t control it. You were nuts to think you could.

You scramble out of the bed and run, and people are yelling, and you just have to get out of here, you just have to _get out_ of here before you hurt anyone else.

-

You don’t have any shoes, and the sidewalk hurts your feet, and you’re wearing blue pyjamas the hospital must have put on you. Everyone’s giving you weird looks.

You need new clothes. But the doctor has your money. And it’s not _your_ money anyway, it’s the money you stole, it’s the money you killed everyone for. You were never supposed to have it.

(“It was an accident,” you say, quietly. Sean says nothing.)

You end up stealing the clothes you need. Float them out of stores with your powers when nobody’s looking.

It feels like you’re not learning anything, it feels like you’re never going to be a better person. You’re still stealing, you’re still using your powers, you’re still hurting people. But it’s not like you can do anything else, right?

It’s too late to change, anyway. Everyone’s already dead.

-

_You don’t need Mom,_ Sean says, before you remember he didn’t call her _Mom_ , he called her _Karen_. _You don’t need Karen_ , he says instead. _She walked out on us._

“I don’t have anyone else!” you yell at him. It feels good to be mad at him, like maybe if you get mad enough it’ll stop tearing you up that he’s gone.

_How are you going to find her, anyway?_

“I’ve got the PO box address, right?”

_What, are you gonna mail yourself there?_

You start to laugh, and then to cry. It feels so pathetic, laughing at your own joke.

More walking, you guess. There’s always more walking. If you find Mom, you’ll probably just end up killing her too.

-

People ask you if you’re okay sometimes. Way more than they did when Sean was here. You always tell them you’re fine.

You’re not fine. But it’s not like anyone can _fix_ it.


End file.
